“F**k, f**k, f**k…” I continued the monotonous soliloquy I had begun when my borrowed Tenere World Raid’s front tire lost traction, only now I was lying on my back in the middle of Ringwood Road’s gravel surface just past a concrete causeway. The bike, ticking quietly, lay next to me.
This had happened to me before, some decades back. I had encountered a causeway slimy with some kind of repulsive plant and had gone over the handlebars of a BMW R 1000 RT. With that in mind, I had slowed right down on approach to this crossing. When I felt the front wheel turn sideways anyway, I accelerated in the vain hope of reaching the other side of the river’s dribble with the bike still upright. That didn’t work, but at least when I fell I did my parachute roll on dry gravel instead of in the wet, slimy, repulsive causeway.
The Bunnan Road provides fewer challenges than the later gravel.
With the help of a kind motorist who stopped even before the dust cloud had settled, I picked up the bike – which is not light with its 23 liter tank full – and looked it over. Not much scraping; the cleverly integrated crash bar had done its work admirably. Nothing broken, either on the bike or me. I had escaped with no more than bruising and blessed the impulse that had made me don my BMW Air Flow suit for this ride. I got it originally for riding in hot conditions – it is excellent for that – and was pleased to find that it also protected me nicely.
Ever since I worked out that I did not have to allow for every single rock and heap of gravel when riding off sealed roads, I have enjoyed these kinds of surfaces. Over the years I have managed to loosen my hands and knees death grip on handlebar and tank and learned to take pleasure in back roads riding. Just as well here in Australia, where something over half of the “made” roads are gravel.
It’s clever the way Yamaha has incorporated the accents into the bike’s tank logo.
The Tenere World Raid 700 is effectively a dedicated Adventure Travel version of the Tenere 700. Differences include the rally-style instrument panel, longer suspension and therefore a higher seat, luggage fittings and improved shocks. All in all, I suspect that this is the bike I would choose if I went on another round-the-world ride. The crash was definitely neither the bike’s nor the standard fitment Pirellis’ fault.
You can’t miss the museum, possibly the largest grey shed in the entire valley.
I was on my way home from an aircraft museum, one of my hobbies. This one is in Scone, a prosperous small town in the Hunter Valley north of Sydney which is dedicated to the first of the valley’s three preoccupations: racehorses, wineries and open-cut coal mines. The museum’s name is Hunter Warbirds, and like most aircraft museums in the British WW2 sphere, it concentrates on Spitfires. The local volunteers have enough of a sense of history, however, to at least build a mock-up of the best fighter in the early days of the war, Messerschmidt’s Bf 109.
Other interesting aircraft, many of them with a connection to the Hunter Valley by way of the Williamtown fighter base to the east, include a Bristol F.2B, a Kittyhawk, an Australian-built CAC Mustang, a Wirraway, a very smart-looking Harvard, a couple of stumpy Aermacchi trainers, a Hawker Hunter and an elegant RAAF Mirage. The standout is a MiG-17F, originally from Poland but now painted in the camouflage and markings of the North Vietnamese air force. Many of the aircraft, sadly with the exception of the MiG, are in flying condition and fly regularly.
The MiG was actually a Polish aircraft, but it looks great in North Vietnamese colors.
The atmosphere at Warbirds is pleasantly relaxed, and although admission is not cheap there is always a volunteer ready to guide you. A basic but pleasant and friendly little café is on site.
There are several ways of getting to Scone, which is on the A15 New England Highway, from Sydney. The simplest and fastest is heading straight up the M1 Pacific Motorway to its intersection with the M15 Hunter Motorway and continuing to Scone on the A15. Needless to say this makes for somewhat dull and heavily supervised riding – Highway Patrol cars sit lightly camouflaged on the central nature strip. In the interest of leaving time to see the museum, I took the M1 as far as the Freemans Waterhole turnoff and then headed north to eventually join the M15. In Muswellbrook I turned onto Kayuga Road, which becomes a pleasantly bucolic way of avoiding the highway through Dartbrook as far as Scone.
It was great to see a Cessna Bird Dog from the Vietnam War in such beautiful restored condition.
After my few hours at the museum, I checked into the laid-back Isis Motel (no connection with the Middle East, I was assured) and allowed myself a few beers at the busy and stylish Thoroughbred Hotel just up the road.
I had more time for my ride home the next day, and after taking the Bunnan Road by way of Owens Gap to Merriwa, I thought I’d tackle a bit of gravel I had never ridden before, mainly because it was often closed by flooding. It was the part tar, part gravel from the Golden Highway down to Wollar Road through Goulburn River National Park which starts at both ends as Ringwood Road and is named Wollara Road in the middle. This was where you came in.
The bike has a full set of features available for long-distance work.
With an undamaged bike and just a bit of bruising I continued my ride and even continued to enjoy it. Once on Wollar Road I headed east along the Bylong Valley Way to Denman through the outliers of the Hunter wineries to Warkworth and on to Bulga at the head of the Putty Road. A couple of hours later I was home, having been held up several times by roadworks.
Let me recommend this ride, except for the drop at that causeway. I have to say, though, that I have trouble thinking of avoiding the close encounter with the gravel here. Is there a recognized way to cross something like this? I’d be grateful for suggestions.
(Photos: The Bear)
